


leave me your stardust to remember you by

by little_baby_kaiju



Category: Pacific Rim (Movies)
Genre: Developing Relationship, Gen, M/M, Non-Sexual Age Play
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-10
Updated: 2018-08-29
Packaged: 2019-05-20 18:01:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,367
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14899320
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/little_baby_kaiju/pseuds/little_baby_kaiju
Summary: He doesn’t really need it, it’s just a guilty pleasure, something he likes to do when he’s had a long hard day in the lab and is cranky and tired.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for all the kudos on No Big Deal! It was more popular than I expected aha!  
> This fic deals with age regression or non-sexual age play (which is the only tag that will give me what I want grrrrrr). Newt regresses, and eventually I’d like Hermann to find out and possibly become his caregiver. I might also make it a romantic relationship.  
> Tags added as necessary.

He only does it in private. He doesn’t really need it, it’s just a guilty pleasure, something he likes to do when he’s had a long hard day in the lab and is cranky and tired. He makes the decision early this time, it’s their lunch break and he’s already having problems; his specimen wasn’t properly transported and the tank smashed and Hermann’s being a _ding dong_ and he’s hungover and tired from poker with Tendo last night and he just wants it all to go away and to not have to be an adult anymore. He fantasises about what he’ll do that night in the lunch hall and he starts smiling uncontrollably and his legs jiggle restlessly and he bites his lips and Hermann asks if he’s ok and he _is_ , he’s _so_  ok but Hermann can’t see him like this so he thinks about work and about Kaiju and about how stressed he is and comes back to himself. Save it for tonight, he thinks.

And he does, and when he’s finished his work he says, “Catch ya later, Hermslice,” the way he does every night, and leaves the lab, practically skipping to his quarters. He has a vague routine for this stuff, and he follows it, stripping his work clothes off and placing them on his laundry pile with more care than he usually takes, before stepping into the bathroom. He’d really like to have a bathroom like Hermann’s, with a larger shower and an actual bath as well, but he makes do with the tiny regulation en suite with its shower spanning all of three square feet. He picks out his special lotion, the one that smells aggressively of watermelon with the brightly coloured packaging, and his special sponge, which is green and shaped like a dinosaur, and cleans himself off. He’d like some shower crayons too, to draw Kaiju on the metal walls, but he thinks the steel is too dark for any pictures to show up so he saves his money.

His special towel is waiting for him when he’s done; it’s a green hooded towel that makes him look like a crocodile. He likes it because it’s big enough to make him feel small, and also makes him look awesome because it’s a crocodile and crocodile’s are awesome. Sometimes he wishes he had someone to wash him, to wrap him up in his towel, to feed him and play with him and one face always comes to mind, one _stupid ding dong_ face -  
But he wouldn’t want that. He doesn’t want to do that. It’s weird. And it’s _Newt’s_ thing, all for Newt, his secret from Hermann, something he and he alone has.

He opens his bottom drawer and pulls out his pyjamas; fluffy green footie pyjamas with a dinosaur head on the hood. He pulls his last item out of his top drawer - a bright green adult pacifier (I’m sure by now you can tell what Newt’s favourite colour is). He puts it in his mouth, getting used to the feeling, before picking up his stuffed Kaiju and his crayons and his colouring book from the floor and getting to work. His vision goes fuzzy round the edges the harder he sucks the pacifier, and at last, he is relaxed.

After what seems like hours of intense colouring, his eyes begin to droop and a particularly large yawn ejects his pacifier from his mouth. Whining softly, he puts down his crayon to pick it back up and put it back in. Rubbing his eyes, he decides it’s probably bedtime. So he sweeps all of his crayons and his colouring book back off the bed to the floor and grabs his little Kaiju stuffie. He fumbles with his phone and a device on his bedside table for a minute, before soft piano music begins to play and lights hit his ceiling in the shape of planets and stars (they remind him of Hermann). He hits the switch for his overhead lights, flips the covers over himself and lays down. He has a big soft white fleece blanket with little green aliens on it that he stitched himself, and he pulls it from under his pillow. He settles in for the night, eyes closing softly and a small smile playing on his lips behind the pacifier.


	2. Chapter 2

“Sharing a room? With him? I don’t think-“

“Yes, that’ll be us, Drs Gottlieb and Geiszler, thank you, our key cards, yes, thank you, come on Hermann, Hermann, this way...” Newt leads Hermann away from the bewildered lady at the front desk of the hotel. He can’t help but be disappointed though, because as much as he loves Hermann, and he really does, like dude - _stop that right there don’t go any further with_ that _thought_ \- he had been looking forward to some alone time at this conference. And now he wasn’t likely to get it, unless he somehow managed to get his baby things out in the middle of the night and colour in the dark.

“187,” he reads off the tiny plastic rectangle in his hand. “We’re here.”

They enter the room, both silently hoping for twin beds instead of a double-

“Yes!” Newt exclaims, falling backwards onto the bed closest to the door.

Hermann snorts derisively. “Please refrain from snapping the slats five seconds after entering the hotel room, Newton.”

The biologist props himself up on one elbow and gasps in mock indignation. “I’m not that heavy, you know!”

Hermann chuckles and heaves his case into his bed, bringing out his blue pyjama set. It was Newt’s turn to snort.

“What the frick frack are those? Grandpa pyjamas?” Hermann makes a noise like a disgruntled cockatoo.

“No, I-,”

“Oh my god, you’re so old!”

“I am seven months older than you, Newton!”

“Yeah but at least I don’t wear old man jammies!” Newt punctuates this by whipping out his own pyjamas; his green footed dinosaur onesie.

Hermann is silent for a few seconds, before mumbling, “Well, at least I don’t look like a child.”

Newton is slightly taken aback by this statement, and stares at the taller man for a moment longer before continuing to get ready for bed.

 

Hermann was sat up in bed, covers pulled neatly up to his waist, reading a well worn book about physics. Newton, on the other hand, was sat cross legged on top of his mussed covers, working intensely with his crayons on a colouring book made for children.

Setting his book aside, Hermann decides to finally address the elephant in the room and clears his throat carefully. “Newton, what are you doing?”

“Huh?” The smaller man looks up, head tilted.

“I said, what are you doing?” Hermann’s tone is softer than usual.

“‘M colouring,” Newt says around a crayon he’s stuffed between his lips.

“What are you colouring?”

“A lion.” As if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Hermann takes a risk. “May I see?”

“Uh, yeah!” The younger man holds his book up with both hands to show. A cartoon lion printed with a thick black outline was scribbled through with orange crayon. It wasn’t anything like what Hermann had seen the man draw before; he draws his own tattoos, for goodness sake! It was messy and childlike, and Hermann begins to put the pieces together in his head.

He clears his throat. “Newton, I’m going to turn off the lights now. It’s getting late and we have to be up early in the morning.”

As predicted, Newt begins to kick his heels on the bed and whines. “But I’m not tired! I have to finish this lion!”

As he complains, Hermann catches a glimpse of something tucked under his arm.

“Is that... a stuffed Kaiju?”

Newt blushes pink. “...yeah.”

Hermann splutters a little. “Really, Newton? Of all things-“ the younger man’s expression begins to fall. He carefully changes tack. “Does it have a name?”

Newt seems a little more at ease with Hermann’s words. “...yeah. Rory. ‘Cause he roars.”

“That is a... very practical name. Now, it’s bedtime. I’m going to turn off the lights.”

The younger man pouts, but jumps under his covers and lays down. “‘M’kay.”

Hermann hits the light switch with his cane, which he places on the floor next to his bed. “Goodnight, Newton.”

“Night, Hermann.”

 

As the lights go out, Newt rolls over so he is facing away from Hermann before pulling something out of his pocket; his pacifier. Popping it in his mouth, he sighs quietly. At least he can have this, just for a little while.

 

On the other bed, Hermann lies awake, staring at the ceiling. _Dinosaur onesie? Child’s colouring book and crayons? Stuffed animal?_ Newton’s behaviour was equivalent to that of a child. His whole headspace seems to be shifted from that of an annoying, immature yet still very much _adult_ man, to a soft, carefree childlike state of mind. Who, Hermann begrudgingly allowed himself to think, looked positively adorable in footie pyjamas. He closes his eyes and tries to sleep, drifting off to thoughts of holding a sweet boy enveloped in green fleece.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Peep the Criminal Minds reference, 10 points to whoever figures it out :P


	3. Chapter 3

They‘re two hours into flying back from the conference when Newt’s patience for sitting still finally wears thin and he begins bouncing his knees and chewing his knuckles. Hermann peers at him through his round glasses over his book.

“Newton, do sit still.”

“Man, this is so _boring_! There’s never anything to do on planes.”

Hermann sighs, closing his book. “We are two hours into a feb our hour flight. Now, you’re no mathematician, but I should hope even the lowly man of six doctorates that you are should be able to figure out that we are _halfway there_.”

Newt crosses his arms and pouted, mumbling, “Still bored though.”

Hermann sighs again, and thinks for a second. He reaches into his satchel for his notepad and a pen and hands them to Newton.

“Draw me something.”

“What?” Newt seems startled, but takes the proffered objects cautiously.

“Draw me something. Anything you want.”

Newt is looking at him as if he’s going to laugh at him or be cruel, but still presses the pen to the paper and begins to draw. As he does, his shoulders sink and relax, and his tongue peeps out from between his lips as he concentrates hard.

Hermann nods in satisfaction at his own genius and closes his eyes, leaving the man to his own devices for a little while.

 

Hermann must have drifted off because he was awoken suddenly by Newt tugging insistently at his sleeve and whining wordlessly.  
“Uh-yes, what-what is it?” Herman stuttered sleepily.  
Newt hold out the page torn from the notebook to show him, lower lip caught between his teeth.

It was a picture of Newt and Hermann in the lab. He’s coloured in his own arms in the picture with tiny Kaiju tattoos. He’s grinning wildly, and Hermann’s frowning at him. It’s slightly scribbly, and done only in black biro, but it’s so sweet Hermann feels his heart melt a little.  
Newt pushes the picture into Hermann’s hand.

“Is... is it for me?” He asks softly, taking the proffered picture from his hands. Newt nods, looking up at him through his eyelashes. “Thank you, darling, I love it.”  
The biologist makes a soft sound at the pet name and blushes dark pink. Hermann idly notices that the blush makes his freckles stand out more then usual.

Suddenly, a yawn broke free of his lips. Newton followed suit.  
“Perhaps we should try to sleep for a while.” The younger man is way ahead of him, and promptly plops his head down on Hermann’s shoulder, snuggling into his neck. Within seconds his breathing slows. Hermann smiles fondly and gently leans down to press a soft kiss to the mass of black hair, before closing his eyes and drifting off to sleep once more.

 


	4. Chapter 4

He’d just got settled down with his paci in and his colouring book out when he hears a knock on his door. It startles him, and he knocks some crayons on to the floor, frantically scrabbling to hide his pacifier. In his haste he doesn’t realise he’s still wearing his dinosaur onesie with his stuffed Kaiju under his arm. Breathlessly he flings the door open, revealing a very red-faced Hermann.

“Hey, Herms, what’s up?”

Hermann’s mouth opens and closes a few times before he seems to decide on what to say. “Hello, Newton. I-I...” he breaks off, rubbing the back of his neck with his free hand sheepishly. “I need to talk to you about something.”

“Sure, man, come on in.” Newt steps aside to let the taller man in.  
His bunk is a mess, with dirty clothes strewn over every available surface. Hermann notes his stuffed Kaiju immediately, and scans the room for anything else incriminatingly childlike and spots his discarded crayons and colouring book, deducing that they’d been strewn there just before he came in. He perches gingerly on the edge of Newt’s bed and is immediately joined by the man himself, who flops down and crosses his legs, looking at Hermann expectantly.

Hermann clears his throat. “Newton, about...” he doesn’t know what to call it, and grasps desperately at the words. Newt still sits there, wide eyed, and waits for Hermann to choose what he’ll say.  
“About the business with the colouring, and the childish pyjamas, and the stuffed animal.” Newt stiffens instantly, shifting away from Hermann.

“Look man, I-it’s... it’s...”

“Stop, Newton. I’m not here to berate or embarrass. Quite the opposite actually. I...” The older man cuts himself off, blushing even darker. “I’d like to be a part of it. N-not as another child, but as a caretaker. You’re unruly, Newton, and I assume you need of one those rather badly, hm?” His voice softens and drops an octave on the last sentence and Newt practically melts. He nods frantically, making a funny little noise in the back of his throat, suddenly unable to use his voice. He clutches Rory tighter. Hermann smiles at him gently and reaches out a hand to stroke Newton’s hair.

“You are a sweet boy, Newton. I think this arrangement will work out just fine.”

**Author's Note:**

> Title is from ‘Boats and Birds’ by Gregory And The Hawk. I imagine it’s on Newt’s little playlist, it’s on mine!! :3


End file.
